Darkest before the dawn

We've all heard that one before...it's always darkest before the dawn.

Here we are, Saturday night before "the Big One." And I'm struck by how it must have been on this day for those that followed Jesus 2000 years ago. They had put all their hope in this man that they knew be the great king.

And they had just watched 24 hours earlier this one being brutally killed in a way that only the worst criminals of the day were "taken care of." Pretty dark, indeed. No sign of the dawn.

Unlike those that have followed since, they didn't yet have the rest of the story. He was to come back from the dead...and they didn't know it. All their hopes were dashed and they were left utterly alone. Sometimes I feel that way...utterly alone with all of these thoughts rushing in and out of my consciousness. Right in the middle of this darkest of nights...there I sit.

But there it was; the morning. "Let's go to the grave." What kind of person does something like that? Wasn't it bad enough to see him bleed, die, and get ripped from that blasted tree? Why go to the site of his final rest? The pain must have been palpable. But sometimes the memory and desire for the good times overtakes the sadness and loneliness, and we just want to be near the object of the memory.

But what is this? Someone has scared off the guards and stolen the body! He is gone. The one moment of peace from the darkness has again been stolen. Where is he? What have they done with him...the one who was our hope?

As the sun crept over the horizon the realization rushed in. He is gone. But is he alive? Not to know just yet. The men leave, and the woman is there. Utterly alone. Weeping. Completely broken in her place of sorrow. Like me, sometimes. Then the voice.

"Why are you weeping?"

"They have taken the master and I don't know where to find him." This one that held such hope for me...he is gone and I don't know where to go. Where do I go to get close to the object of my hope?

"Mary."

That voice. I know that voice. I know the name he calls because He has called it many times. "Teacher!" And my heart jumps back to life.

The dawn has broken through and the time is new. And I barely remember the darkness of Saturday night.

The world as I see it...

has many layers. Kind of like an onion.

To quote one of my favorite movie exchanges:
Shrek: Ogres are like onions.
Donkey: They stink?
Shrek: Yes. No.
Donkey: Oh, they make you cry.
Shrek: No.
Donkey: Oh, you leave em out in the sun, they get all brown, start sproutin' little white hairs.
Shrek: NO. Layers. Onions have layers. Ogres have layers. Onions have layers. You get it? We both have layers.
[sighs]
Donkey: Oh, you both have layers. Oh. You know, not everybody like onions.

And not everyone likes the world, either. Whether it's politics, their life situation, their job, their own body...everyone that I've spoken with is pretty much in the same boat.

Something I've discovered, though. You don't need to be in your boat alone. We will try to fill our boat with all kinds of things to make us think that our layered world works. Money, homes, cars, even good acts like serving at a shelter or soup kitchen tend to layer our lives with good things. The only thing I've seen is it weighs down the boat.

Maybe it's not about what you have in the boat...but more like who you have in the boat. It's not about where you are sailing, but who is leading you. Insert good Sunday school quote here..."sounds like the answer is Jesus."

Yep. That is my answer for what is going on in my boat right now. Some may call it a crutch, some delusional thinking. But I humbly respond that it's not so much about what others think, it's only about what Jesus thinks.